This time emily squealed with delight. She was the luckiest girl of all! Mistress Irene took emily by the hand and led her to the bathroom. The tub was filled with fluffy bubbles. As emily soaked, she knew that she had better not touch her little clitty or Mistress Irene would punish her harshly, but it was so hard! (“uh-difficult is a better word,” emily chuckled to herself.) emily emerged smooth and clean. Mistress Irene inspected her shaving, cleanliness, and to make sure that emily hadn’t had “naughty-clitty time”. She dusted a light floral powder onto her sissy.
When emily went to her room, laid out on her canopy bed was the most beautiful outfit she could have imagined: new panties – white lace with a delicate pink bow; a new bra which matched her panties perfectly with lace and bows; white stay up stockings with lace tops to encircle her girlish thighs.
Mistress Irene stood in the doorway very pleased with herself as she instructed emily to tuck her “tiny plaything” and begin dressing. She inspected emily’s stocking seams and straightened them, giving emily a firm swat on the fanny. She even fastened emily’s bra for her. emily was nearly breathless yet she hadn’t yet gotten to the most wonderful part – the amazing Easter dress!
emily was shaking with anticipation as she stepped into her new dress of lavender and lace. Mistress Irene had found a perfect fit. The tops of her stockings were visible below the hemline. As she leaned forward slightly, her panties could be seen. The sleeves were short puffs of white lace with lavender roses. Although the dress was youthful, the bodice was low cut. Mistress Irene let out a low whistle and looked proud of her creation.
“Come here my living doll,” she beckoned. emily took a seat at the vanity while Mistress Irene worked magic with make up and hair. Under lavender bows her hair fell in loose curls. She held very still for the nail polish, which perfectly matched her ensemble. Mistress Irene presented emily with a box saying, “This is the icing on the cake, emily, you are almost there.” Opening the box emily gazed upon shiny white she heels- the most beautiful she had ever seen. She slipped the shoes on and gazed into the full-length mirror at the feminine image. Tears filled her eyes as she instinctively knelt to worship Mistress Irene.
“Don’t smear your mascara, my little sissy!” chided Mistress Irene. “Our guests will arrive soon!” As if on cue, the doorbell rang. emily sprang to her feet to answer, ready to serve in any way she could.